The last time I did a cocktail review was October 28, 2011??
That's too long. I need to re-drunkify this blog.
The trouble is, I haven't gotten the bar up and running yet. I had hoped to lay in a stock of liquor and mixers within a few weeks of moving into my apartment, but various emergencies (and fripperies) have kept my booze-budget a trifle low.
Fortunately, there's a plethora of bars in Bucheon, and they come in all shapes and sizes: dim, smoky, expat watering holes; the ubiquitous hof-and-soju joints; a smattering of hostess clubs; and even a Japanese beer bar. It was at one of the expatriate hang-outs that I had occasion to sample an Agwa bomb.
First I should explain what Agwa is, though.
Unsurprisingly, this stuff is manufactured and bottled in Amsterdam...
Anyway, here's the recipe for an Agwa bomb:
- 1 ounce Agwa coca leaf liqueur
- 1 can Red Bull energy drink
Pour a can of Red Bull into a tall glass (or, if you can find it, one of those hourglass-shaped Agwa bomb glasses) and stir in the Agwa.
I had the shot-sized version. I'm quite glad I did, for this meant that I had only one vile ounce of the stuff to drink instead of a glassful. It was abhorrent. I have never been a fan of Red Bull (if I had known that RB was a component of this drink, I never would have ordered it). And, after several terrifying encounters with Jägermeister at college, I have learned to steer clear of so-called "herbal liqueurs." They're uniformly disgusting—like cough syrup or bitter vegetable mash. Combining Red Bull and an herbal liqueur is a monumentally stupid idea, probably conceived by some tattooed bartender in an L.A. nightclub. This concoction should be outlawed by international treaties. Fizzy anise-flavored piss-water, that's what it amounts to. I gulped down in one go and vowed never to touch the stuff again.
Before I sign off, I'd like to add that Agwa represents a disturbing trend in the alcohol world: fruit-flavored vodkas and liqueurs made from strange plants. They're utter crap. They don't mix well with anything, and taste gross when taken straight. But they're taking over, slowly but surely. At best, they're little more than bottled marketing gimmicks; at worst, they are liquid crutches for the trend-setting club-hopping crowd, made to conceal the taste of any real liquor in their drinks. Perish the thought.
Rant over. Postie out. Steer clear of Agwa.